


Now You Know

by wicked



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:38:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked/pseuds/wicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a letter is the ONLY way to express yourself</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now You Know

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about two years ago, but decided to post it up here. Let me know what you think - I'm positive it's not my best work, but nonetheless I'd love to hear what you have to say! 
> 
> Kat

**Dear Gerard,**

**  
**

It’ll never be enough; I’ll always want more. I think you’ve never understood that about me; how selfish I really am. We claim we’re best friends, but do you really know that much about me? There’s so much I’ve kept from you, for your own protection, or maybe for mine.

 

            I never told you that I love the way your hair falls across your eyes, the way you distractedly push it away and the way it never seems to obey. Sometimes I just wanted to reach over and touch it, to run my fingers through it. Unless we were on stage I could rarely conjure up enough courage to ever come close, but I’ll bet you never knew.

 

            I love how you always take over, no matter what the question or whose asking; you’ve got the answer. You always have the answers. I liked that I could sit back and relax most of the time, because you’d handle everything. Sometimes when I would answer, you would interrupt and I never once minded, I welcomed it because it meant you were listening to me. I love that you have such strong opinions and always voice them, that you don’t back down or worry about what other people think. Mostly, I think I just liked listening to your voice, the confidence you projected as you acted the spokesman. You were always the leader and I looked up to you. I’ll bet you never knew.

 

            I loved the control you had over everyone who crossed your path, and I was never an exception, in fact, I may be the prime example. I remember staring in awe of you, hanging off your every word. I was never the only one, people worshipped you, I just got to do it up close. You never knew that sometimes I would zone out just watching you, did you? You could handle anything and everything that came your way and the stage was never an exception. You had complete control over everything that happened on that stage; it was _your_ stage. You were in your element on that stage and I felt privileged that I was given the opportunity to share it with you. When you made your way across that stage and headed towards me, my stomach always twisted itself together in anticipation; I knew what was coming but it was always a surprise. I knew my heart would stop, my breathing would get erratic and I’d have to focus all my efforts on just playing the right notes when you advanced on me, the only thing I didn’t know was what you would do when you got there. Sometimes it was a simple peck on the cheek or lips, the latter always being preferred, but sometimes you’d surprise me, crawling between my legs or rubbing yourself against me. It was sweet agony everytime. Sweet because I loved every single god damn second of it, but agony because for _you_ it was just a show. I’ll bet you would have never guessed that every show I prayed you’d make your way towards me, or that the times you didn’t, I’d find my feet leading me towards you instead because I just couldn’t stand the thought of not touching you, even if it was just for show.

 

            I hate that there was a point where you didn’t love yourself enough to care. You were completely oblivious to the pain I was in when you did shit like that. Did you know that everytime I found you passed out in a puddle of your own vomit I’d cry myself to sleep? I flushed your drugs plenty of times, but you always seemed to find more and it broke my heart into a thousand pieces because I was forced to stand by and watch you fall apart. I felt like I didn’t even know you during that time and I would have done anything to save you. Anything. I was that desperate. I don’t think you ever knew that about me, but why would you?

 

            I hate that I never had the balls to tell you how I felt. I tried so many times to get up the courage to simply spit it out but I copped out every single time. I always found a reason to put it off, to “wait”, always promising myself that I would do it, just later. Seven years together and I’ve never managed to spill my guts. Maybe I always knew the answer. I was so scared that you would reject me; laugh in my face or that it would make it uncomfortable for you. I was always so concerned about how you felt, how you’d react, what you thought, maybe I should have paid more attention to myself and how all of this shit was making me feel. Maybe the whole problem was never **_me_** , maybe it’s always been you!

 

            I hate you. I could never say those words out loud, though there have certainly been times when I wish I could. You made me **insane** with confusion, I felt like I couldn’t ever get a handle on you. After spending as much time as we did together, you should have been able to read me like a book, we both know I can’t lie worth shit, so either you figured it out and just didn’t care or you really never knew me at all. Neither option sounds that great to me. Sometimes I want to scream in your face. I want to tell you to wake up and look around, fucking look at _me_! You never really saw me did you? Maybe if you had, you would have figured out how I felt and I wouldn’t have to write all of this down.

 

            I wish it never came down to this fucking letter. I wish I could have told you the truth and I wish I could have done so knowing that you felt the same. I wish everything about us wasn’t a lie, but most of my wishes haven’t come true, so this one should be no different. When it comes to you, I’m used to being disappointed. I know what it’s like to pray and wish every night that you’d wake up and look at me, really look at me and realize that you were as much in love with me as I with you. Seven years of hoping for something that was never going to happen. I told myself daily to give it up and everyday you’d convince me otherwise; a smile, a hug, a look, a touch, a kiss and I’d be hooked again, convinced that _this_ time would be different, today would be the day that you told me you felt the same way. The day you told me you loved me. The day never came and I’ve finally realized that it never will.

 

            Today is the day you’re going to pledge your love to someone. That someone is not me and I’m not sure if I can handle watching that happen. I’m not sure I can watch you slide that ring onto her finger and tell her, in front of a room full of people, that you love her and want to spend the rest of your life with her. I’m not sure I can stand by with a smile and have my heart broken, yet again, by you. Not this time anyways.

 

            I’m sorry that I can’t be your best man. I can’t smile through this one, I can’t pretend any longer. It just hurts too much.

 

            I’ll bet you didn’t see this coming. I’ll bet you thought when you woke up this morning to a knock at the door, it would be me, grinning widely and offering words of congratulations because this is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, not the little white envelope that sat lonely on your door mat. I’ll bet you never thought I’d let you down because I’m your best friend and I’m _always_ there. I guess I feel like it’s my turn to be the one disappointing YOU instead of the other way around.

 

            You can say you didn’t know, but I think we both know you did. I think you knew from day one. Either way, at least you know now. Too bad it’s too late.

 

            Have a great day. I do hope that it’s the best one of your life, because as much as I want to hate you, I can’t help but love you and I never want to see you hurt, especially not if it’s because of me. So do what you want with this letter, hide it and pretend you never read it and I never wrote it, at least you can’t say you don’t know anymore. At least I finally grew the balls to tell you the truth, even if I had to write it in a letter. At least you know.

 

                                                                                                Love Always,

                                                                                                            Frank. 


End file.
